Lyrics Math Scholars - Scorey

(Ha-ha-ha, Nick, you're stupid)
Uh

We some headshotters and lead poppers, we let it off
Dreads hotter than damn lava, can't shake it off
Like math scholars, bring any problem it's gettin' solved
They love to watch him, they can't stop him from takin' off
For Speaker Knock' I might pour up this Wock' if I cough
My demons might slaughter his dog, then forget what they saw
Got shot in his face now he drinking his food through a straw
Can't talk to the jakes, he get baked if he cool with the law

On the same block, screaming, "Fuck twelve"
He can get whackеd if he talk
Tell them fuck niggas thеy could spin back
'Cause he keep straps where he walk
I need a big bag for my thoughts
My niggas running laps 'round the opps
Screaming "Get back" but they lost
He get gift wrapped for the cause, uh
Twin forties like Mary and Kate
Said she love me, she scaring me away
Lil Roc get on him he buried today
Better duck if he cherish his face
I keep my strap on the highway
'Cause I heard that lil' one nigga perished that way
You could get rocked on a Friday
We gon' turn him to Runtz, he get carried away

We some headshotters and lead poppers, we let it off
Dreads hotter than damn lava, can't shake it off
Like math scholars, bring any problem it's gettin' solved
They love to watch him, they can't stop him from takin' off
For Speaker Knock' I might pour up this Wock' if I cough
My demons might slaughter his dog, then forget what they saw
Got shot in his face, now he drinking his food through a straw
Can't talk to the jakes, he get baked if he cool with the law

Like, who got the drop?
Wherever you seen him at is wherever we leave him at
Lil' bro got Glocks
He like him a beam attached whenever he squeezin' that
We got a stick in that bitch with a—
In the back, pull up, make his team a pack
My nigga might leave him bleedin', whacked
He say he just blowin' off steam for Zach
Hop out that van like, "Bitch, what's up?"
We put his mans in the Tre 5 blunt
I saw your bitch, I would say, "Hi" but
She probably don't want you to know I fucked
Blick in the clutch
Washy might hop out the truck, he aim at his necklace and up
Sick to his gut, we put his mans in the ground
They wish they could go dig him up

We some headshotters and lead poppers, we let it off
Dreads hotter than damn lava, can't shake it off
Like math scholars, bring any problem it's gettin' solved
They love to watch him, they can't stop him from takin' off
For Speaker Knock' I might pour up this Wock' if I cough
My demons might slaughter his dog, then forget what they saw
Got shot in his face, now he drinking his food through a straw
Can't talk to the jakes, he get baked if he cool with the law